Infected
by neverhappy10
Summary: Naomi wakes up in a windowless room with no memories as to what happened. AU. All the gang of course, but probably mostly Naomily.  this is 'the test' re-written btw, :p


**Re-doing this fic, :p**

**

* * *

**The absolute first thing I see when I open my eyes is white. Not the kind of white you see everyday when you open a blank Word document or on a piece of blank A4 paper. No, this white, it's different. It's like I'm surrounded by nothing and everything at once. I curse and close my eyes, the pure white of the room hurting my eyes. Am I in heaven or purgatory or something? No, because that would mean that I'm dead, and I know for a fact that's not possible. I write for a living, magazine articles here and there, a couple of chapters of my novel that I'm working on, nothing dangerous like a stunt woman or anything like that. It takes me a few seconds before my eyes start to adapt themselves, and finally I can see clearly. I'm lying on a comfortable white bed, I'm staring right at the ceiling, which has no patterns or anything on it. It's now that I'm coming to terms with my actual surroundings, and with that comes the questions, but I try to push the out of my head for now. I get up slowly, seems like I haven't broken or damaged anything, I'm not cuffed to the bed or trapped in any way. My body is still completely intact, just like it was yesterday, when- come to think of it, what happened yesterday?

I suddenly hear a noise from somewhere in this complete, um, whiteness. Then I hear footsteps, someone's coming. I can feel my heart hammering in my ribcage, my mind is racing all over the fucking place, a myriad of questions swirling around, again. Am I about to die? Who are these people? Where the fuck am I? How the hell did I end up here? Do I really want to know the answer to these questions?

After what seemed like forever and a day, but was probably just around a minute or so, I hear another sound. A clicking noise this time, the kind you get whenever you open or close a door. In this case, it was opening. Obviously.

"Morning Naomi," It's a female voice, one that I can't shake the feeling that I know. Very well. I try putting a face, a name, an identity, anything, to the voice, but it's like trying to remember a hazy dream hours after you've woken up. It feels so close, but always out of your reach. The woman was around my age, in her early twenties. Brunette, nice eyes, slender figure. Ok, fine, there's more to it than that, she was hot, and my palms were getting sweaty and my eyes are probably dilating at the moment. My fingers seem to have subconsciously grasped the bed sheets, which is a good thing because practically every cell in my body is screaming at me to jump her and fuck her right her and now.

Alright, let's get this out of the way, I'm bi-sexual, deal with it.

I figure I should probably say something in return, but the words seem to have been caught in my throat.

The woman must've sensed this or something because she just smiles at me and says, "It's completely normal. You're going through the transition phase, your body is adjusting to…" she pauses, a thoughtful expression on her face, as if she were trying to choose the next few words carefully, "its new condition." She stops again, letting me process this new information, which isn't that much if you think about it. So I'm here because I have some kind of disease? If so, then why don't I have any memory of what the hell happened?

"What happened?" I finally manage to croak out, my voice sounding a little weird, but that's the last thing on my mind right now.

"You're currently in one of the patient rooms at our treatment facility in New York city. You'll be filled in on everything as soon as you're ready." As soon as I'm ready? What the fuck does that even mean? I'm over fucking 18, I should have a right to know. I'm ready to tell her this, but then a heavenly smell reached my nose and I realize that I'm starving. I need meat, and I need it now, my brain was telling me. It's been 5 years since I've touched meat, an incident in which I had to witness the slaughter of a cow was more than enough to make me a vegetarian. Right now, though, I couldn't care less if they serve me a plate of raw bacon, my body was desperately craving for animal flesh.

A clean-shaven guy who was wearing one of those black vest, white t-shirt waiter outfits walks in, carrying a plate of what seems to be mushroom steak, and all queries about what happened vanished from my head. It could wait, whereas a good meal couldn't.

"Enjoy your meal," She smiles again, getting up to leave and this time, I smile back. I most definitely will. "Oh, and," she spins around and throws me a remote-like device, which I catch easily (impressive because I cannot play sports to save my life), "for if you ever get bored."

* * *

After devouring my steak in less than 5 minutes, I feel a lot better, that feeling is immediately followed by sleepiness. God, I sound like a pig, feeling sleepy after having my stomach fully filled up. I reach for the remote thing the mysterious brunette gave me. I play with the buttons a little, and a plasma screen slowly slides up the wall opposite to my bed. I'm not kidding, the white floor literally opened up and a huge ass screen popped up. Wow, I hope my insurance covers this.

I surf the channels, not very interesting programs on. I finally settle on the daily news, if nothing else, at least it'll keep me informed on the stuff happening around the world. I'm a writer, I need to stay updated after all.

It's all boring news pieces about the North Korean dictator, few robberies here and there, murder trials. Not much shocks me anymore, seems like mankind just keeps on sinking lower and lower. The power suddenly turns off and all of a sudden I'm left in darkness, a cold sweat breaks out on my skin and a chill runs down my spine. Just before the tv went off, I saw a 'missing person' report, or rather, an update.

Apparently my body has been found halfway across the world in Bangladesh. The whole world thinks, no, they all **know** that I'm dead.

* * *

_"I'll help you if you help me, now tell me the **truth**_**. **_Don't lie. __Remember, I know your secret._"

_Fuck, I want to tell her the truth too. It'd be such a relief to finally share this burden, but I couldn't. I know what they would say, and while I get their reasons, I don't want to have to kill her. I take a deep breath, deciding that if I didn't say much, then I technically wouldn't be lying._

_"OK," I nodded.  
_


End file.
